


Violent Daylight

by Opo



Category: Dragon Age, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Action, Adventure, Blight, Drama, F/M, Fantasy, Friendship, Grey Wardens, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-05-05
Updated: 2012-05-05
Packaged: 2017-11-04 20:58:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/398136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Opo/pseuds/Opo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Demons by night, darkspawn by day. Could she ever get a break? The only momentary peace should could find was in the rare solitary moments she had as she stole away from the camp and those never lasted long, what with her and Alistair being the only ones that could end the Blight within the whole country of Ferelden.</p><p>On top of that she's still fairly sure that she's a hated, if not wanted, woman in Denerim. Grey Warden or no, though, she's still under mass scrutiny and subjugated to racism left and right. As though she didn't have enough on her plate with ending the Blight, saving the country, ending several civil unrests, and trying to figure out her love life...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Violent Daylight

**Author's Note:**

> Yes, I'm addicted to role playing games. Yes, my imagination likes to run wild. But so long as you guys enjoy it, that's all that matters.
> 
> Comment, kudo, bookmark and all that stuff--don't be shy to tell me if I'm messing up a character's unique personality! I'd rather be gruffed at and get it right than be delusional and wrong.
> 
> Theme song for this story: Florence + the Machine's "No Light, No Light." I suggest you guys listen to it as you read---I think it fits the mood perfectly. :)

_Rage flowed through her hot like boiling oil and she shook as she ran through the stone hallways with Soris in tow, both still dressed in their wedding clothes and armed with bows as they hunted down the bastards that had violated their wedding day. Panic mixed with her rage as she thought of Neloras, Shianni, Valora and the others and their well-being...or lack there-of._

 

_Maker and this was supposed to be her wedding day. She remembered vaguely the words her father had said to her earlier: Don't go telling your husband to be about all those things your mother taught you. We don't want to seem like trouble makers. So she had promised she wouldn't out of respect for him. Now she couldn't help but think bitterly that Neloras was going to find out sooner rather than later._

 

 _The blood of the human men that had taken her and her friends squelched in her boots as she ran, the ends of her long hair keeping the lively wheat blond locks from bouncing around as they had always had a tendancy of doing. Her peach soft lips were painted scarlet from the blood of her foes, the edges of her wedding gown soaked as thorougly as her hair. She had no doubt that she would have been covered in even more blood had she stuck solely with daggers instead of switching back and forth between blades and bow. Equally she imagined that she must be a sight--an enraged and armed elven woman dressed in a wedding gown and drenched in blood? If she were to see such a sight her only thought would be that the grim reaper_ was _in fact a woman and that she better start running the other direction._

 

_But then these humans never did seem to take the elven seriously, always insisting that they were weak and worthless. Insisting that the women were whores to be played with at their will and that the men were meant to do only the worst of jobs, jobs that no human would ever wish to do. She snarled as she remembered all of the times that human men and even occasional women had picked out their elf of choice and dragged them by the hair to do with whatever they pleased. It had never been an issue of whether the cursed elf wished to or not. After all, elves were naught but toys to be had fun with and tortured at the discression of humans._

 

_Albeit, not all humans were thus, just many. Mainly nobles and rich merchants who believed themselves higher than the law. Which they were to an extent. After all, they could easily just pay off or intimidate any legal power that came after them. That is, should any legal power come for them in the name of justice in the first place._

 

_Another death, another door and she came just in time to watch as her busband to be--the man that had promised her that he would spend the rest of his days making her happy, the man that had single-handedly gathered up the courage to come after her and get Soris to come with--get cut down. His final sight was that of his blushing bride howling her rage at his death, tears in her cornflower blue eyes as she brandished a dagger and lunged herself at his assailents._

 

_She relished the feel of the human filth dying beneath her blade, relished the sight of their panic-filled eyes fade to the hollowness of death as their bodies bled out. Oh how she wanted then and there to let her rage get the best of her and mutilate their bodies in revenge for all of her people that they had tortured, raped, and killed. For how many lives they had ruined by standing by or acting. But then was not the time and she knew it. Shianni, Valora and the others needed her help else she might have to stand witness to even more death._

 

_But before she left she knelt next to the body of Neloras and closed his lifeless eyes with her fingers before reaching down and taking their intended wedding bands from his corpse. Stringing the wedding bands on a plain, delicate chain necklace she had ransacked from one of the rooms of the building and hooking it around her delicate neck she stood and stormed to the next room. These humans would pay with their lives for what they had done that day. All would soon know the rage of a knife-ear and maybe then these human scum would think twice before harming another elf._

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

Aonani woke with a gasping start at feeling a large hand on her shoulder, drawing her dagger and placing it against the unknown assailants throat reflexively. The hand immediately lifted from her shoulder and was held up so that she could plainly see that the assailant had brandished no weapon.

 

"Feeling a bit jumpy, are we?"

 

Aonani blinked the sleep haze away and met her eyes to Alistair's. For a moment she was thoroughly confused but then it all began to filter back to her. Being taken to become a Grey Warden, the Wilds, Ostagar. _That's right,_  she thought. _We're on our way to Lothering._ Reaching up she grasped the two wedding bands hanging at the base of her collarbone, comforted by their familiar presence. "Let's get back on the road," she finally said. "We need to get to Lothering, restock our supplies, and figure out what the Void has happened."


End file.
